


Sensitive

by sapphire_child



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-30
Updated: 2006-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphire_child/pseuds/sapphire_child
Summary: Charlie and Claire share a quiet moment at her shelter.





	Sensitive

Having long hair must be a bit like having a tail because I can always tell when someone is touching my hair – especially now that it’s almost down to my waist. I’ve always disliked people touching my hair. I was terrible at sleepovers when I was little, never letting anyone play with my hair and then they’d all started to protest that it was so long and pretty and they could do “so much” and “all sorts” with it.

That’s why I jumped today when I felt a hand tangle through my ponytail to touch me lightly on the upper back as I tucked Aaron in for his afternoon nap. A moment later I realised it was Charlie and I relaxed a bit, my shoulders softening as he squatted down, using my back as a balance point but not actually putting any of his weight on me.

‘He looks buggered,’ Charlie commented, peering at Aaron over my shoulder.

‘Mmmn,’ I agreed. His hand was still on my back, still in my hair, motionless but poised. It was one of the first times I’d ever seen – or rather felt – Charlie’s hands stay still. His fingers were usually strumming, tapping, fiddling with his ring, his watch, his hair. His touch now however was light, warm, feather soft – something you don’t really expect from someone with such a gravely voice and scruffy appearance.

A sudden movement from his hand caught me by surprise, startling me out of my thoughts as he shuffled a little closer to Aaron’s cradle, his hand sliding onto my left shoulder as he did so. It seemed to be an almost unconscious gesture, his hand was really only there for a base of support but I was certainly _more_ than conscious of it.

When I was pregnant – and even after – Charlie had restricted most physical contact between us to my lower back or my hands. His hand resting lightly on my bare shoulder suddenly felt a lot more intimate than it probably should have done and my skin seemed to quiver slightly at his touch.

Double checking that Aaron was properly asleep, I turned my face to watch Charlie as he watched my son. He had that impossibly goofy half smile on his face – it was a mixture of pride and profound happiness – the same expression he always wore when he watched Aaron. I felt my own smile begin to grow at the sight of it and after a moment or two Charlie noticed my staring and took to staring back at me instead of Aaron.

‘What?’ he said, an edge of defensiveness in his voice.

In answer, I leant forward and kissed him softly, grinning at the sight of his face colouring gently as I pulled back. He looked befuddled for a moment but then his face split into a grin as well.

‘What was that for?’ he asked, looking thoroughly pleased.

I shrugged, turning my face back to my son so that Charlie couldn’t see that _my_ cheeks were turning pink now as well. ‘Just because.’

Charlie’s hand was still on my shoulder but he shifted it to my hair again as he brought his attention back to Aaron again too. His hand was moving again, the restlessness returned once again as he began to stroke my hair absently. And for once I didn’t really mind having my hair touched.

I didn’t mind that much at all.


End file.
